


After the Storm

by ariel2me



Series: This Life [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-20 07:56:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: Visenya and Rhaenys paid Argella a visit, before Orys’ return to Storm’s End after his captivity in Dorne.





	

It was Rhaenys who told Argella the news of Orys’ release from captivity. She came in person to break the news, just like she had come in person for the parley with Argella years ago. She came to Storm’s End in a royal wheelhouse whose sides were carved with the ubiquitous three-headed dragon this time, not on the back of her dragon. She came with her sister this time, her sister Visenya, the only one of the three Targaryen siblings Argella had not met before.

“Wyl of Wyl cut off Orys’ sword hand,” Visenya abruptly declared, interrupting Rhaenys’ courteous inquiry about the health of Argella and her son.

Rhaenys narrowed her eyes, her hand softly touching Visenya’s arm. “Sister. We agreed –“

“No, _you_ and Aegon agreed,” Visenya snapped. Rolling her eyes, she continued, “Oh what does it matter? What does it matter whether we break the news to her gently or not? Do you really suppose she will be weeping with grief at the news of her husband’s misfortune? She is only waiting for us to leave so she could weep with joy, I’d wager.” 

 _She._ As if Argella was not even there. “Was the ransom inadequate?” Argella asked, pointedly directing her question to Rhaenys.  

Visenya was the one who replied, sounding mightily offended at the question. “Aegon paid _exactly_ what was demanded. He paid their weight in gold. All their weight in gold, all of the prisoners. But that treacherous Wyl cut off their sword hands nonetheless. So they could not take arms against Dorne ever again, he claimed. As if they could not learn to wield their swords with the other hand. As if we could not send other men with intact sword hands to conquer Dorne,” she scoffed.

 _These are the hands that slew your father, Argella. Would you do to them as you father once did to the hands of the envoy?_ Orys had once asked, offering both his hands to her like a poisonous gift.

 _I am not my father_ , she had replied.

_Oh what sweet, sweet revenge. The man who slew me, now unmanned. This Wyl deserves our utmost gratitude._

_You have always hated the Dornish yourself, Father. For attempting to invade the stormlands._

_They failed, didn’t they? I defeated them myself, when I was only a boy. If I had still been a man in my prime, I would have defeated this Orys too, this nobody. Or if I had a son I could depend on -_

Argella closed her eyes, willing her father’s voice away. It was not only Orys who had lost his sword hand. All the prisoners, Visenya had said. All the knights and bannermen from the stormlands who had marched with Orys to Dorne.

She felt a hand grasping her own. Rhaenys’ hand. How warm it felt, when Argella was feeling almost as cold as she had felt the night she was delivered to Orys’ tent.

“Are you well, Lady Argella?” Rhaenys asked.

 _You did not ask me if I was well the day you came with your dragon to take my castle_ , she thought, bitterly. She opened her eyes, forced herself to ask, “Are they … the prisoners, are they all –“

“They are all alive, yes. Lord Wyl instructed his maester to tend to them after … after the mass amputation. After all, he only wanted their sword hands, he said, not their lives,” Rhaenys replied.

“And the ransom was already paid. Paid in full, with not a sliver of gold owing. I’m sure this Wyl creature would be loathed to return even a small portion of it, should any of the prisoners die in his care,” Visenya said angrily.

 “They are on their way to the Aegonfort now,” Rhaenys continued.

“And how long will the king be requiring them to stay in the Aegonfort? Their family will be waiting for their return home. They will be anxious to know,” Argella said, holding up her head higher, recalling her duty as the de facto ruler of the stormlands. Ruling in her husband’s name in her husband’s absence, true, but ruling nonetheless. And Orys’ absence had been longer than the three years he spent in captivity in Lord Wyl’s dungeon. Even before that, he was not often in Storm’s End, spending most of his time by Aegon’s side serving as the King’s Hand.

( _A woman may reign but she does not rule. Her husband will rule in her name. That is why I need a son, Argella_ , her father had said, long ago.  

_Will I be queen? Will I reign and rule both?_

_You will rule, but you will not reign_ , the woods witch had told Argella.)

“The king wishes to honor them,” Rhaenys said. “And to -”

“And to gather whatever information they had gleaned during their captivity to aid him in his further war on Dorne, I’m sure,” Argella retorted. How many more men from the stormlands would have to die or be maimed for Aegon to complete his conquest of the entire realm? How many more widows and orphans would be created before Aegon was satisfied?

Rhaenys did not frown, though Visenya did. Her face calm, Rhaenys continued, “They could return to their family as soon as the king has honored them.” She paused, glancing at her sister as if looking for support before continuing, “But we … that is, Aegon, Visenya and I, we think it best for Orys to stay in the Aegonfort longer. Until he is completely mended.”

“Oh? Do you not trust me to tend to my own husband, Your Grace, the way the other wives will?”

“Perhaps it will be too much of a burden for you, Lady Argella. After all, in Orys’ absence, you have had to rule the stormlands in his name.”

“It is no burden, surely, for a wife to care for her sick husband. It is only her duty,” Argella replied, meeting Rhaenys’ gaze steadily.

“I only meant that –“

“It doesn’t matter,” Visenya snapped, impatient with the back-and-forth. “Orys refused. When the messenger brought the news to him, he sent back words to Aegon insisting that he would only stay in the Aegonfort as long as the other men, and that like them, he also wishes to return home to his family as soon as Aegon could spare him.”

“The sentiment does him credit, I’m sure,” Argella said, in a toneless voice that betrayed nothing of her own feeling on the matter.

Visenya drew closer to Argella, snapping out her words between clenched teeth. “If something happens to Orys while he is in your care, we will not hesitate to rain fire and blood on Storm’s End, on the entire stormlands. Remember that.”

Raising an eyebrow, Argella asked, “Why would anything happen to my lord Orys in his own home? Where he should be safe. Safe from treachery and betrayal.”

_Like I was not._

“Do not play the fool, Argella. You may fool Orys or even my sister with your act and your mummer’s farce, but I know better.”

“Why are you so certain I would do something to harm him?”

“I would, in your place.”

“Sister,” Rhaenys interrupted, throwing a sharp glance at Visenya, who then left the room in a huff.

  **__________________________**

“Please forgive my sister. Her tongue could be too sharp at times.”

 _Whereas yours is as sweet as honey, and as twisty as a snake_ , Argella thought.

“Had it been up to my sister, we would have come to Storm’s End on the backs of our dragons, not in a wheelhouse,” Rhaenys continued.

Was it not up to Visenya, then? The rumor must be true, about which wife was Aegon’s favorite, Argella thought.

“I do not need to see your dragons to appreciate their power of destruction, Your Grace.”

“Rhaenys. Will you not call me Rhaenys? After all, we are … well, we were almost sister-wives once.”

Argella shuddered, recalling that. Eyes glittering, she asked, “But will you not claim me as your good-sister, Your Grace? As the wife to your own half-brother?”

 “It is better for your son if his father’s ancestry is not in doubt, Lady Argella. And better for you, too, is it not?”  

“How kind of you, Your Grace, to think of me and my son. I see you brought a maester with you. Do you not trust the maester at Storm’s End to care for my lord Orys?”

Rhaenys smiled. “The maester was for me, to tend to me during the journey here. It has only been a few months since the birth of my son after all. I am still recovering.”

She looked as healthy and as strong as a horse, to Argella’s eyes.

“But I have been feeling so well during the journey,” Rhaenys continued. “Perhaps the fresh air has been good for me. I do not think I will be needing the service of the maester on our return journey after all. It may not be an ill-thing, to leave the maester here, to tend to Lord Orys. After all, your maester has to tend to so many others in the castle, you and your son especially, Lady Argella.”

“My son is healthy, and so am I.”

“Even so, there is nothing wrong with having another maester in the castle,” Rhaenys said, smiling brightly.

 _You trust me no more than your sister does. You will not threaten me in so abrupt and overt a manner as she did, of course, but the warning is still there, for me to read clearly,_ Argella thought _._

**__________________________**

Visenya was waiting for Argella in her bedchamber, when Argella finally retired for the night.

“How did you –“

Laughing scornfully, Visenya said, “Do you think any of your maids or guards would dare to stop me?”

“If you harm me in any way, my lord Orys would be so _very_ vexed. And your brother has such high regard for his champion and his right hand man, I’m sure _he_ would be vexed as well.”

Visenya scoffed. “I do not fear my brother’s displeasure. Or my sister’s. I have never feared it. We are equals, dragon-riders all.”

“But do you not fear your husband’s displeasure? Perhaps this would induce him to spend even fewer nights in your bed. Your sister has already given him a son.”

Visenya grabbed Argella’s arm. “You are a _child_ , Argella. A silly child playing a silly game.”  

Argella grasped the hand grabbing her arm, pushing it away with all her strength, but Visenya’s grip was too strong. “I am a woman trying to survive, as best I could,” she said, when Visenya finally released her hold.

“So you will not kill him, then?”

“Do you think I wouldn’t have done so long ago, if I truly wish to do it? Why would I wait this long?”

“Because he has never been this helpless before, this … _weak_.”

“Better for him to be alive, than to be dead and no longer my protector from the likes of you. Yes, it hurts my pride terribly to admit that, but pride cannot keep us alive, as my father learned. Pride cannot keep my son safe.”

_And better for him to be alive, and for me to rule in his name, instead of whoever Aegon would put in his place should Orys die before our son is old enough to rule on his own._

“Better for Orys to be alive and weak, so you could bend him to your will, you mean?”

“Do you judge him so poorly, your own brother? Forgive me, your _half_ brother.”

“I have never understood what he sees in you.”

“He sees a home of his own. The home he never had.”  

 

* * *

A/N: If you've been reading my series [This Life](http://archiveofourown.org/series/360314), this fic slots in between [Tell Me True](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3238946) and [Bones and Silence](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5140853). Thank you so much for reading <3

 


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